The cramped van smelled of stale donuts and sweat. Molly, perched on a stack of milk crates, squinted at the blueprints spread across her lap. Bill, leaning against the van's wall, popped a jellybean into his mouth. "So," Molly began, tracing a finger along a squiggly line, "We get in through the kitchen window, snag the presents from the living room, and then shimmy out the back door." Bill nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "Kitchen window, living room, back door. Got it. What about the clown?" Molly looked up, eyebrows raised. "The clown?" "Yeah, the birthday clown. He's gonna be a problem. Those big shoes, the honking nose...he'll see us coming a mile away." Molly sighed. "We'll just have to time it perfectly. He'll be busy making balloon animals or whatever it is clowns do. We slip in while he's distracted." Bill popped another jellybean, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Or, we could...you know...incorporate him into the plan. Imagine the distraction he'd cause if we, say, 'accidentally' set off a confetti cannon." Molly blinked. "You want to use a clown as a decoy?" "Think about it, Molly. It's genius! He'll be honking his nose, flinging confetti everywhere, and we'll be in and out before anyone realizes the presents are gone." "Bill, it's a children's party. We're already stealing their presents. Do we really need to traumatize them further with a clown-related explosion?" Bill shrugged. "Just a thought." Molly shook her head, returning to the blueprints. "Let's stick to the original plan. No clown cannons." Bill sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if things go south, don't blame me." Molly glanced at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, I will definitely blame you." Bill grinned. "Fair enough." They studied the blueprints in silence for a moment. Then Molly pointed to a small rectangle near the kitchen window. "What's this?" "That," Bill said, leaning closer, "is the dessert table." Molly raised an eyebrow. "And why are we concerned about the dessert table?" Bill licked his lips. "Because, Molly, those are some seriously good cupcakes. We might want to grab a few on our way out." Molly rolled her eyes. "Focus, Bill. Presents first, cupcakes later." Bill sighed, theatrically slumping against the wall. "You're no fun." Molly ignored him, her eyes scanning the blueprints. "Alright, so after we grab the presents, we head straight for the back door. No detours, no distractions." "Even if the cupcakes are calling our names?" Molly glared at him. "Especially if the cupcakes are calling our names. We're professionals, Bill. We can resist the siren song of sugary goodness." Bill muttered something under his breath, but Molly chose to ignore it. "Now," she said, folding the blueprints and tucking them into her pocket, "let's go over the escape route one more time." Bill sighed dramatically. "Fine. But just so you know, if we get caught, I'm blaming the lack of cupcakes." Molly rolled her eyes. "Deal."